


Feather Butt

by wintercas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist Castiel, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Teacher Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercas/pseuds/wintercas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after Lisa died in a fiery car crash, Dean is still picking up the pieces of his life. It helps that Sam and Jess are by his side. It doesn't help that he's in love with his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for Emma, who is a babe

            “Okay, Benji. What kind of candy do you want for movie tonight?”

            Ben leans forward, anchoring himself with a hand in Dean’s hair and pointing. “That one!”

            Dean walks forward slowly, holding Ben’s feet in one hand and grabbing the bag of candy. “The sour kind again? You remember what happened last time?”

            “Yeah, but it’s my favorite!” Ben says, lurching over Dean’s head to grab the bag out of his hands. Dean winces as Ben pulls his ear to steady himself. Dean thinks it’s time to set Ben back on the floor.

            Dean used to be able to strap down the little bundle of baby and be out of the store in fifteen minutes, but shopping was getting harder now that Ben was older and more active.

            “Dad! That toothbrush is a lightsaber!” Ben says, wiggling out of Dean’s grasp and running to grab for it, but he can’t reach.

            “You already have a toothbrush, buddy,” Dean says, but he’s going to lose.

            “But it lights up! And if we both get one, we could have a lightsaber battle!”

            Dean couldn’t argue with that.

 

            Ben pushes his goggles up over his eyes, setting his pilot helmet askew. “Will I stay with Aunt Jess even after she’s had her baby?”

            Dean turns down the music and glances in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know, buddy. What made you think of that?”

            Ben looks out the window. “I was just thinking about it. It’s gonna be a big baby. Her tummy’s  _huge_.”

            Dean tries not to laugh. He makes a mental note to tell Sam.

 

            Jess waves from the front porch as Ben runs up to hug her knees.

           “Lookin’ ready to pop, Mommy!” Dean chuckles.

            “I know!” Jess moans, “And I still have a month to go!”

            “Well you’re as gorgeous as ever,” he says, kissing her on the cheek.

            “You’re sweet.”

            “Just telling the truth.”

            “Are you and Ben still coming to dinner on Saturday?” she calls after him as he hops down the front steps.

            “Wouldn’t miss it,” Dean shouts over his shoulder.

 

            It’s Thursday, which means Dean’s students have creativity hour. Dean picks his way through the desks, admiring each child’s project and making comments. Someone taps him from behind.

            “Emily? What’s wrong?”

            “The feathers won’t stick to my paper.” Emily sniffles and wipes her nose with a hand that resembles a multicolored chicken.

            “Did you let the glue dry?” Dean asks, squatting down to eye-level.

            “I put the glue on the paper and then try to put the feathers on but they just stick to my hands,” she blubbers, frustrated tears brimming her eyes.

            “Okay, well why don’t we wash the glue off your hands, and then try again?”

 

            Dean watches from the doorway as Cas rifles through his closet, Ben balanced on one hip.

            “You sure you don’t want me to hold him so you can pack?”

            “I won’t see him all weekend. I want to hold him,” Cas says, squinting at his scant collection of blue jeans.

            “Why are you leaving, Uncle Cas?” Ben asks, tightening his grip on Cas’ hair.

            “I have an exhibition in the city,” he says, shifting Ben on his hip and grabbing clothes to throw on the pile. “But I’ll be back in no time. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

            “Yes we will!” Ben protests, ripping off his goggles and helmet. “Won’t we, Daddy?”

            “Of course we will,” Dean says, and his whole chest hurts. “You driving?”

            Cas looks over his shoulder. “Yes, Dean. I’m driving. I’ll be safe.”

            “I know…” Dean says, scuffing his shoe on the hardwood. “And you have all your pieces, and your schedule, and—”

            “Dean.”

            He looks up.

            “I’ll be safe. I promise.” And the look on Cas’ face makes and breaks Dean’s heart. Cas  _knows_. He must know.

            “Come back to us, yeah?” Dean whispers. He coughs. “I mean, who else is going to be so great with Benji, huh?” Dean instantly wishes he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth.

            Cas smiles softly in reply. Ben wiggles out of his arms and runs over to the bed, where he throws his pilot helmet and goggles onto the pile of Cas’ clothes.

            “No, Ben, that’s all going with Cas to the city,” Dean says, bending to pick up his son.

            “Oh.”

            “Dean?” Cas says.

            “Yeah?”

            “There’s a…” Cas scratches his nose and nods at Dean, “there’s a feather on your butt.”

            “Aw, shit,” Dean groans, twisting to look at the fugitive feather, “That must’ve been here since this morning!”

            Cas laughs as Dean tries to pluck it off while holding Ben, but the feather remains firmly glued. “Let me help,” he chuckles, and he rips the feather off.

            “God, I hate my life.”

            Cas grins, tucking the feather behind Dean’s ear. “No you don’t.”

            “Yeah, I don’t.”

 

            “Daddy!” Ben yells from his bedroom, and Dean would be swearing if Ben weren’t within earshot. He pulls his head out from under the kitchen sink and wipes his hands on a towel.

            “What is it?”

            Ben looks up from his toy box, looking panicked. “Where’s Mommy’s helmet?”

            “Did you leave it in the car?”

            After checking the entirety of the Impala, Dean and Ben search the little apartment, but to no avail.

            Ben sits back on his feet and presses a pudgy hand against his tearstained cheek. “Where is it?” he cries.

            Dean’s stomach drops. He didn’t pick it up from Cas’ pile of clothes. He was so nervous about Cas driving that he forgot to pick it up.

            He can’t call Cas right now. Cas’ horrible habit of talking on the phone while driving makes Dean grip the dashboard with white knuckled hands.

            “It’s okay, buddy. We left it at Cas’ house, remember?”

            Ben sniffles and wipes his nose.

            “Cas will keep it safe. Don’t worry,” Dean says reassuringly, wishing he could soothe himself too.

            Ben falls asleep surrounded by every stuffed animal he owns.

            Dean returns to fixing the garbage disposal and hoping Cas will remember to call him as soon as he gets in.

 

            “Cas?”

            “Hello, Dean. I’m calling to inform you that I arrived safely,” Cas says, and Dean can hear Cas rustling around the hotel room.

            “Good. Listen man, I didn’t grab Ben’s helmet from your pile of clothes,  _please_  tell me you found it before you shoved them all in your duffel.”

            “I’m sure I would have seen it, I fold all my clothes. You’re sure you didn’t pick it—shit, wait, here it is.”

            Dean sighs and rests his head against the doorframe. “Thank god.”

            “What do you want me to do? Should I priority ship it?”

            “No, I don’t want to risk it. Lisa gave Ben that hat.”

            “I know.”

            “Well, just keep it safe, I guess. See you on Sunday.”

            “Dean, I could—”

            “No, it’s fine. We’ll work it out. Have fun at your exhibit. Really sorry I can’t be there.” His whole body aches. Maybe he has the flu.

 

            The TV flickers blue light throughout the room.

            Dean sits on the bed, looking at the last box of Lisa’s things.

            Sam was wrong. He’s not ready to pack this up. He’s not ready to move on. He’s not ready.

            Dean twists the gold band on his finger and puts the box back in the closet.

            Ben appears in the bedroom doorway, holding his stuffed tiger and crying.

            “Oh, buddy! Did you have a nightmare?”

            Ben nods and curls up in Dean’s arms.

            “Was it the cars again?”

            Ben’s wet face shakes against Dean’s neck.

            “Oh, baby boy. I’m here, you’re safe.”

 

            “Don’t you think it might be tougher for Ben to let go if you’re still hanging on?” Sam asks. Friday lunches with Sam were starting to feel more and more like therapy sessions. Dean briefly considers burning down the café, but Cas works here and he wouldn’t want to put him out of a job.

            He shrugs and glances around the café.

            “I’m just saying. It might be a factor.”

            “Lunches with you are so cheery, Sammy,” Dean says, taking a bite of his sandwich.

            Sam rolls his eyes.

            “When do you have to be in court?”

            “I still have an hour. I might go home real quick, see Jess.”

            “Your wife’s just about ready to pop that monster baby.”

            Sam points an accusing fork at him. “She is  _not_  a monster baby.”

 

            “Cas? Shouldn’t you be—”

            “Hello, Dean. You know my brother, Gabriel?”

            “I wish I didn’t.”

            “He’s going to swing by your apartment with Ben’s helmet in two hours.”

            “What?”

            “He happened to be in the city.”

            “Wait, then who’s staying with Anna?”

            “Her nurse. She’ll be fine. Gabriel will be there in two hours. Goodbye.”

            “Wait, Cas!”

            Dean glares at his phone when only the dial tone responds.

 

            “Oh, you  _so_  owe me now, Dean-o!” Gabriel says, spinning the helmet around one finger and leaning against the doorframe.

            “Hey, man. Thanks a lot. Hope I didn’t put you out of your way or anything,” Dean says, accepting the helmet and ushering him into the apartment.

            “Well, you did,” Gabriel says, cracking open a beer, “My baby bro calls me and demands I drive to the city to deliver something ‘of great import’ back to you. At least I won’t owe him any more favors after this.” He takes a swig and collapses on the couch.

            “What? I thought you were already in the city.”

            Gabriel continues as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “So, like the saint I am, I high-tail it down there, thinking Cassy accidentally grabbed your wallet or anxiety meds or something when you two scrambled back into your clothes, but—”

            Dean chokes on his beer. “We’re not sleeping together!”

            “But when I get there, it’s just Benji’s pilot helmet! And here, I thought I  _finally_  had proof you two were knocking boots!”

            “We aren’t sleeping together!”

            Gabriel finishes his beer and throws the empty bottle in the trash. “Where is the little aviator? I want to give it to him myself; I just drove four hours for his sake.”

            “He’s in bed. We can leave it for him to find when he wakes up.”

 

            Dean wakes up with pudgy hands in his face.

            “Daddy! Mommy brought my helmet back!”

 

            Dean helps Jess wash the dishes after dinner on Saturday.

            “I still don’t understand why you don’t just get a dishwasher.”

            “I wouldn’t trust it to get the job done right,” Jess says. Her face is exhausted sunshine when she smiles at Dean. “I guess I get that from my mom. She hated the things.”

            “Why don’t you sit down? I can do these.”

            Jess sighs and puts a hand on her stomach. “I might take you up on that.”

            She sighs into a kitchen chair, and for a moment they’re silent, listening to Sam and Ben giggling in the other room.

            “It was nice of Castiel to have Gabe bring Benji’s helmet back.”

            “Yeah. It was great of Gabe to do it. Although I think he mostly wanted out of the house.”

            “It’s hard for them, with Anna?”

            “Yeah. Cas is considering moving back to their house to help take care of her, but I don’t know if that’d be very good for him. He kind of struggles as is, you know?”

            Dean looks over his shoulder when Jess doesn’t respond.

            “What?”

            “Nothing,” Jess sighs, smoothing the fabric over her belly.  
            “You can’t lie for shit, sis.”

            Jess laughs and sighs again. “You just really care about him. It’s sweet.”

            “Well, yeah. He’s practically family,” Dean says, vigorously scrubbing a plate.

            “But not the way Sam and I are family.”

            Dean takes a deep breath and counts to five. “Cas is just a friend.”

            “Okay, I believe you. I’m pulling my nose out of this before you bite it off.”

 

            When Dean answers the door on Sunday, up to his elbows in finger paint, Cas laughs.

            “Hello, Dean.”

            “Welcome back, man. How was it?”

            “I didn’t sell a single thing. People must hate me,” Cas says matter-of-factly, walking into the small apartment.

            “Cas!” Ben squeals, colliding with Cas’ knees and spreading paint all over his blue jeans. “Mommy brought me back my helmet!”

            “That’s wonderful, Benji!” Cas says, scooping him up into a hug.

            “Wait, you’ll get—”

            “It’s fine.” Cas kisses Ben’s cheek. “Let’s go paint.”

            “Yeah!” Ben shouts, wiggling out of Cas’ arms and running back into the kitchen.

            Dean catches his friend by the elbow. “Wait. Cas.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Just…thanks.”

            “It was lucky Gabriel happened to be in town.”

            “Right. Yeah.”

            Cas smiles. Dean wonders briefly if he has arrhythmia.

            “But, thanks anyway. For thinking of it.”

            Cas puts a hand on his shoulder briefly before joining Ben in the kitchen.

 

            Cas’ painting goes up on the fridge next to Ben and Dean’s.

            He makes a comment that ‘at least his art is hanging somewhere.’ Dean’s response is cut short when Ben reappears and drags Cas by the hand into the living room to play.

            Dean grins when he hears airplane noises coming from the other room.

            “Where’s the Red Baron?”

            “I’ll find him, Captain!” Cas appears at Dean’s elbow and forcibly drags him into the living room. “Come with me.”

            “Hey!”

            “Hey yourself! We have a war to win!”

 

            “You think he remembers it?” Dean asks quietly.

            Cas hands Dean a drink, brow furrowed as he considers the question.

            “I mean, he has nightmares about it.”

            “He was so little, Dean. I’m sure the memories will fade. No one remembers anything that happened to them as a baby.”

            Dean scrapes the pad of his thumb on the sharp cap of the bottle. “So he’ll forget Lisa, too?”

            Cas puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean. We can’t possibly know what’s going to happen.”

            “Yeah.”

            “And I need you to take that to heart.”

            Dean shrugs.

            “You couldn’t have known about it. You  _couldn’t have known_. You can’t predict the actions of strangers.”

            “If I had just—”

            “But you didn’t  _know_. There was no way.”

            Dean picks at the label on the beer bottle.

            “Dean. Look at me.”

            Dean looks up, and Cas’ face is intense.

            “It was not your fault.

 

            Dean and Cas had been friends for almost six months, after Dean gathered the courage to make small talk at the café where Cas worked. He was nervous because Castiel was a stranger, not because he had a beautiful smile.

            It took one month for Cas to introduce Dean to his family, one third of which was battling cancer.

            It took two months for Dean to tell Cas the full story of Lisa’s crash, and how Dean nearly lost the two most important people in his life that day.

            It took three months of playtime for Ben to trust Cas enough to fall asleep in his arms.

            It took four months for Cas to show Dean his artwork, which was achingly beautiful and incredibly private. Dean has never seen Cas at work, because he insists that he’s shy.

            It took five months for Ben start calling him ‘Uncle Cas.’

            It took all six months for Dean to realize he was in love with his best friend.

 

            They sit on the sofa, half asleep in the whiskey-colored light.

            Dean is in love with Cas.

            He has been for a while, he thinks.

            “Cas?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You pulled your last favor with Gabriel to get Benji’s helmet back.”

            “Yes.”

            Dean twists the gold band on his finger.

            “I’m sorry I lied to you, but—”

            Dean can’t stop himself from kissing Cas.


	2. Chapter 2

            It’s awkward.

            Their noses bump and their teeth clack but it’s  _Cas_  and Dean can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.

            They pull apart, hands hovering in the space between their trembling bodies.

            “I have to go,” Cas says abruptly.

            Dean’s chest is collapsing. “Cas, I’m sorry.”

            Cas jumps to his feet and grabs his jacket off the coat hook, Dean hot on his heels.

            “Wait, Cas! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

            But Cas is already sprinting down the front steps.

            Dean watches him pause at his car door and look back, but then the door slams and the engine sputters to life and Cas is gone into the darkness.

 

            “I kissed Cas.”

            “ _What_?”

            Dean presses a hand against his forehead and takes a deep breath, clutching the phone like a lifeline. “We were just talking and I don’t know why but I fucking kissed him and then he bolted.”

            “Slow down. Dean, you’re freaking out. Take a breath,” Sam says.

            Dean leans his head against the doorframe. “I’ve ruined everything.”

            “No you haven’t, idiot. There’s probably something else going on.”

            “He doesn’t feel—I just ruin everything I touch.”

            Sam huffs loudly into the phone. “You two, I swear to god.  _Of course_  he feels the same way. Just find out what’s wrong.”

 

            Dean finds himself in Bobby’s garage Monday evening, taking his frustration out on the underside of the old truck he was restoring.

            If Cas didn’t want to answer his goddamn phone, fine.

            Someone taps his ankle.

            “I told you, I’ll go on break soon. Just give me five more minutes, Bobby!” Dean growls.

            “I need to talk to you,” Cas says.

            Dean’s heart stops for a second.

            “Dean, please.”

            He stares up at the rusted underside of the car. “No, it’s fine. I get it.”

            Cas huffs. “No, you don’t. Please, just come out of there.”

            Dean rolls out from under the car and stands up, wiping his hands on the rag in his back pocket. Cas’ clothes and hands and face are covered in paint and Dean’s chest is suddenly very tight and warm.

            “Dean, I’m sorry.” Cas always had a weird thing with eye contact. For once, Dean can’t meet his gaze.

            Dean clears his throat. “No, I shouldn’t have—”

            Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean, that’s not it.”

            Dean crosses his arms. “Then what is it?”

            “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

 

            They end up in Bobby’s office, sitting in the chairs in front of the desk.

            “I don’t…I’ve never…” Cas says, looking close to vomiting on Dean’s shoes.

            “Been with a guy?”

            “Been with  _anyone_. I’ve never…I’ve never even…” Cas hangs a hand on the back of his neck, and Dean’s stomach drops.

            “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry.”

            “And I just…I  _do_  want to be with you, but I…”

            “Panicked?”

            “Yeah.”

            Dean scoots to the edge of his seat and cautiously touches Cas’ hands before taking them in his own. His hands are warm and paint covered, and they twist to entwine with Dean’s fingers. Cas starts breathing again. “This ok?” Dean asks.

            “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

 

            They sit on the couch, nervously curled into one another, watching Ben play on the floor in front of them.

            Cas is wearing his blue hoodie. “Bad day?”

            Cas nods, and his hair tickles Dean’s neck.

            “Wanna talk about it?”

            “No, I’m fine. I just screw everything up and make bigger messes than the ones I try to clean.”      

            Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair.

            Cas cranes his neck to look up at him. “I’m okay. You’re here.”

            “Yeah. You’ve got me.”

            Ben knocks into Dean’s knees. “Daddy! I wanna play pirates!”

 

            Cas scuffs the toe of his shoe on the front step.

            “Call me tomorrow?” Dean asks.

            “Okay,” Cas says, staring at his shoes.

            “What?”

            Cas scratches the back of his neck. “Maybe…maybe you could…”

            Dean chuckles and gently tilts Cas’ face up to meet his. Cas sighs and grabs his collar and they stand like that for seconds, minutes, hours, illuminated by the porch light in the darkness.

            When they pull apart, Cas immediately covers his face with his hands.

            “Why’d you cover your face?” he asks, tugging softly on Cas’ wrists.

            “I’m blushing. Stop laughing!”

            “I’m not laughing!”

            Cas’ eyes appear between his fingers.

            Dean laughs a little more and kisses Cas’ temple. “You’re adorable.”

            Cas makes a frustrated noise behind his hands and Dean laughs as he presses kisses along his forehead.

            “You’re adorable and I…I like you.”

            Cas chuckles behind his palms. “I like you, too.”

 

            “You’re in a good mood,” Jo comments as they eat lunch in the lounge. “You know, as opposed to yesterday, when you were a depressed mess.”

            “Yeah. Sorry,” Dean says, pulling apart his sandwich and shoving some in his mouth.

            “It’s a wonder you don’t have a girlfriend, with table manners like those.”

            “I know, right?” Dean says through his mouthful of turkey. He swallows and reaches to answer his ringing phone.

            “Dean? Thank god,” Cas says.

            “Cas? What’s wrong?”

            “It’s Anna.”

 

            The hospital room is quiet. Gabriel leans against a wall, looking out at the trees. Castiel sits rigid in the plastic chair with his back to the door as well.  

            Anna lies in the bed, looking exhausted. “Come to visit me, Dean?” she says quietly when she sees him in the doorway.

            “Dean,” Cas says. The chair makes a murderous noise as he jumps up.

            “Hey,” Dean says, returning Cas’ tight embrace. “How are you feeling, Anna?” he asks, looking over Cas’ head.

            She rolls her eyes. “Peachy.”

            Gabriel snorts from his position at the window.

            “Can we talk?” Cas asks, words muffled by Dean’s sweater.

            They find a small room with broken-down armchairs and an ancient coffee machine. Dean fixes Cas a cup of coffee and they sit across from each other, knees pressed together.

            Cas hunches over his coffee cup. “She had a seizure. The doctor said it’s an uncommon side effect of the chemo, but it happens.”

            Dean traces circles on Cas’ knees with his thumbs.

            Cas sighs heavily. “She told us…”

            Dean waits quietly for him to speak, setting Cas’ cup on the table so he could hold his hands.

            “She wants to quit chemo,” he whispers around trembling lips.

            Dean reaches across the gap and wraps Cas in his arms, where he fits perfectly. “Cas, I’m sorry.”

            “Why is she giving up? Why is she doing this to us?”

            He sobs into Dean’s shoulder until his breath comes in hiccupping gasps. He pulls away, wiping snot and tears onto the back of his hand.

            “Sorry,” he stammers.

            “Don’t be,” Dean says, stretching to grab a box of scratchy tissues from a side table and handing them to Cas.

            He takes a tissue. “Sorry I pulled you from work.”

            “I found a substitute for the afternoon kindergarten. No problem.”

            Cas chuckles a little. “Sorry I got your sweater all wet.” Dean looks down at the tears-damp shoulder of his sweater.

            “Sam got me this. It’s actually an improvement.”

            “Scoot over.” Cas wedges himself in the space between Dean and the armrest.

             Dean rests his chin on top of Cas’ head and matches his breathing with Cas’. Cas laces their fingers together and sighs heavily.

            “Tell me everything’s going to be okay.”

            Dean kisses the top of his head. “Everything will be okay.” 


	3. Chapter 3

            One month after Anna’s seizure, Dean and Cas find themselves in the living room of Dean’s apartment, shouting themselves hoarse.

            Ben appears in the living room entryway, rubbing his eyes.

            Cas uncrosses his arms and Dean stops pinching the bride of his nose.

            “What’s wrong, Daddy?” Ben asks sleepily.

            Dean scoops his son into his arms and carries him back to the bedroom. “Nothing, baby. Cas and I were just having a discussion.”

            “It was loud,” Ben sighs, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. 

            “I’m sorry, Benji. We’ll be quiet.”

            After Dean finally gets Ben to settle down again, he finds Cas standing exactly where he left him.

            “He’s down again.”

            “Good.”

            “We should be quieter.”

            Cas crosses his arms again.

            “Cas. Come on. You have to see my point, though,” Dean pleads, stepping closer and laying a hand on Cas’ exposed fingers.

            Cas pulls away.

            “I’m trying not to suffocate you, okay? I’m doing my best. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

            “She only has a few months left.”

            “Which is why it would hurt more if you moved in.”

            “I’d regret  _not_  spending the extra time with her for the rest of my life.”

            Dean rubs his forehead. “You know I’ll back whatever decision you make, Cas. I’m just trying to point out all the—”

            “Thanks. I don’t need to hear it.”

            Dean drops his hands to his sides. “I don’t want to argue anymore.”

            “Then stop talking.”

 

            That weekend, Dean drives Sam’s truck to Cas’ apartment.

            “Before you ask, I’m absolutely sure about this,” Cas says as soon as he opens the door.

            “I wasn’t going to ask that. I wanted to know if you were still too mad to kiss me,” Dean says, knowing he was poking a sleeping bear.

            “I am.”

            “But you’re not too mad to tell me to fuck off.”

            “I don’t have a truck.”

            Dean follows Cas inside, appreciating Cas’ choice in jeans. “So you’re just using me?”

            “You always knew I only wanted you for your body and Sam’s truck. Beer?”

            “Thanks.”

            They lean against the kitchen counter and survey the apartment, stacked with boxes.

            “I’m sorry I pissed you off. I was only trying to help.”

            “I know.”

            “Can I kiss you now?”

            Cas leans up, stretching to meet Dean’s mouth, but he pulls away just before their lips meet. “You can kiss me after we’ve packed the truck.” He grins as he takes another swig of beer.

 

            It doesn’t take long to pack Cas’ boxes in the back of Sam’s truck.

            “Is this really all your stuff?”

            “I don’t have a lot, I told you.”

            Dean wipes sweat off his forehead. “I’ll come back tomorrow for all your furniture and—”

            “No need. Gabriel hired some men to put it all in a storage container. There’s no room at his house.”

            Dean nods. “Ready to go, then?”

            Cas looks back up at the complex and sighs. “No. But let’s go.”

            “Hey,” Dean says, gently touching Cas’ arm, “this is the right thing for you and your family. I promise, Cas. It’ll work out.”

            Cas looks down at his shoes. “Thank you, Dean.”

            Dean bumps his mouth to Cas’ temple. “Gross, you’re all sweaty.”

            Cas huffs.

            “But I still want to kiss you, if that’s okay.”

            Cas nods, not looking at him.

            Dean grabs his hand and pulls Cas toward the truck.

            “Dean, what—”

            “I’m not gonna make out with you in the middle of the street, come on.”

            As soon as the door closes behind them, Dean yanks Cas forward and kisses him hard. Soon they’re both a mess of hot tangled limbs and hands running through sweaty hair.

            “I missed you so much,” he whispers in between gasps.

            “I missed you, too,” Cas moans, leaning over so much he’s practically sitting in Dean’s lap.

            “Can we—can we…?”

            “After we…get rid of these boxes…yes, yes, yes.”

            Dean suddenly pulls away and starts the truck.

            “What are you doing?” Cas asks, pouting.

            “Getting rid of these damn boxes.”

            “Oh.” Cas settles back in his seat and straightens his shirt. “Then let’s go.”

 

            “Cassie goes upstairs, third on the right,” Gabriel says, holding the door open. It takes three trips up and down the stairs for Dean to notice Anna sitting in the living room.

            “Are you staying for dinner, Dean?” she asks after they’ve finished unloading all the boxes from the truck.

            “I’m going to take Cas out to dinner, actually.”

            Gabriel jumps to respond. “But I’m cooking, Dean-o! It’ll be just like a fine Italian restaurant! Don’t tell me you’ll deny me the pleasure of serving you!”

            Cas appears behind Dean and mumbles something about Gabe needing to think before he opens his mouth. Anna, who hadn’t caught the joke, speaks up.

            “Eat with us! It’ll be wonderful to have company!”

            Cas presses his hand into the small of Dean’s back. “Really, Anna, Dean has—”

            “So it’s settled!” Gabriel says, clapping his hands. “Dinner for four!”

 

            Dean and Cas dance around each other in the small bedroom, unpacking the boxes onto the empty furniture.

            “Where’s all your art stuff?”

            “I, uh”—Cas clears his throat and doesn’t look at Dean—“I couldn’t take it with me. No room in the house.” A few books fall off the top of the stack Cas is trying to balance on one hand.

            Dean steps up to help.

            “I’ve got it.”

            “I’m just picking up the ones you dropped, Cas.”

            Cas sighs and Dean takes the opportunity to ease the pile of books out of his hands and set them on the floor.

            “Hey,” Dean whispers, wrapping his arms slowly around Cas.

            “Hey,” Cas says, and his voice is muffled by Dean’s tee shirt.

            “You okay?”

            Cas shakes his head a little and clings tighter to Dean.

            “You wanna talk about it?”

            He shakes his head again, hair tickling Dean’s chin.

            “You wanna make out before dinner?”

            Suddenly Dean is thrown on his back on Cas’ bed. He bangs his elbow on a box and shoves it off to the floor. Cas straddles his hips and pushes down eagerly, pressing kisses all over Dean’s face and neck.

            “I wasn’t expecting—”

            “Be quiet, please just be quiet.”

            Cas grabs him roughly by the collar and kisses him hard on the mouth, slipping his tongue between Dean’s teeth.

            There’s a bang on the door and they jump.

            “Dinnertime, boys!” Gabriel shouts through the door.

            “Fuck.” Cas climbs off the bed and begins straightening his clothes and hair. Dean, still a little dumbstruck and very uncomfortable, scratches his head.

            “We could go out after dinner,” he says after a while.

            “Probably not. How about tomorrow?”

            “I can’t pawn Benji off on Jess two nights in a row.”

            Cas sighs and crawls back on the bed to kiss Dean’s cheek. “I don’t think it’ll work out this weekend. Get cleaned up,” he says, smacking the side of Dean’s leg.

            Dean huffs and sits up. “Well now I’m grumpy.”

            Cas chuckles and kisses Dean’s forehead. “Well I love you anyway. Hurry up, or Gabriel will think we’re up to something.” He bounces off the bed and opens up the door.

            Dean can’t breathe, there’s something crushing his chest, twisting his stomach. “What did you say?”

            “All Gabriel wants in the world is to—”

            “No. Before that.”

            Cas blushes hard. “It slipped out. I’m sorry.”

            Dean nods vaguely and slides off the bed.

            Cas appears behind him in the mirror. “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s fine.”

            “Dean.”

            “It’s fine. Let’s go eat, yeah?”

            Cas grabs his arm. “I know you weren’t ready to hear that.”

            Dean still can’t breathe. He doesn’t look at the crushed face in front of him. “It’s fine, Cas.”

            “I still meant it, though.”

            “I, uh. I have to go get Benji,” he stammers. Dean yanks his arm out of Cas’ grip and trips drown the stairs, two at a time.

            “Dean!”

            He pulls open the door and stumbles in the darkness. The desert air is cold on his bare arms and he can’t start the truck fast enough.

            “Dean!” Cas stands in the front door, backlit by the glow of Gabriel’s home.

            He can’t look back again. His heart can’t take it.

            Sam’s ancient truck finally sputters to life and roars away from the curb.

 

            “Son. You can’t be here.”

            Dean blinks in the bright light.

            “How did you even get in?”

            “I hopped the fence.”

            The old man sighs and shifts his weight. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

            Dean looks back down at the headstone. “I know. I just had to see her. I’m sorry.”

            “Is there someone I can call, son?”

            Dean presses his palms into the cool marble. “I’m okay.”

            “Why don’t I call someone to pick you up?”

            Dean sniffs hard. “Okay.”

 

            He leans his forehead against the window and tries to tune out the groundskeeper’s voice.

            “—should really get him to see someone if he’s breaking into cemeteries just to hold on to the past.”

            “Thanks. I’m sorry again, sir.” Sam shakes hands with the old man in the dusty beam of the headlights and climbs into the car.

            “Sam, I’m—”

            “Don’t. Just don’t, Dean. We’ll go pick up the truck tomorrow, okay?”

            Dean turns back to the window and watches Sam’s reflection, glowing blue from the light of the dashboard.

            “What did you take?” Sam asks quietly.

            Dean huffs a sigh. “Nothing. It’s just Cas.”

            “‘Just Cas,’” Sam says, sounding almost amused.

            “What?” Dean snaps.

            “Well, it’s never ‘just Cas,’ is it?”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Take it however you like,” Sam says, checking over his shoulder.

 

            “Is Cas here?”

            “Despite your hair-brained scheme, I don’t think he wants to see you,” Gabriel says, leaning against the doorframe and picking his teeth.

            “Gabriel,” Cas says, appearing over his shoulder, “go check on Anna.”

            Gabriel shrugs and glares at Dean before disappearing. Cas steps onto the front porch, closing the door behind him.

            “Where’s Ben?”

            “With Jess. She’s a saint. But she also tore me a new one last night.”

            Cas smiles sadly and looks down at his shoes.

            Dean tugs at his collar and shifts his weight to his other foot. “Cas, I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay.”

            He steps forward and touches Cas’ elbow. “Really. I really, really want to be able to…say stuff like that. Or hear stuff like that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t… _feel_  stuff…you know?”

            Cas chuckles a little and fixes his eyes on Dean’s hair. “Jess coach you on what to say?”

            “She phrased it a lot better.”

            “Okay.”

            “Okay what?”

            “Okay, I won’t say it.”

            “And you’re fine with me not being—”

            Cas kisses the corner of his mouth. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

            “I have a surprise for you, then.”

            Cas laughs and stretches to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck. “What, the surprise was contingent on whether or not I forgave you?”

            Dean kisses his chin. “Maybe.”

            “You’re unbelievable.”

 

            “A storage unit?”

            Dean squats to unlock the padlock. Cas makes an approving noise.

            “I like this idea already.”

            “Pervert. You don’t even know what it is.”

            Dean wishes he had a camera to capture Cas’ face the moment he saw what was inside.

            “You like it?”

            “Dean…”

            Dean jogs ahead, turning on the lights. “The owner said that if we just kept it in the same condition—safety deposit, you know—and didn’t do anything illegal, you could use it as an art studio. So I called Gabe and—”

            “Dean.” Cas rests his hand on the easel, running his fingers over the tray.

            “I didn’t look at any of your artwork, or anything.”

            Cas puts his hand on Dean’s arm.

            Dean rubs the back of his neck. “Are you crying?”

            Cas wipes at his eyes. “This has just been a really stressful month.”

            Dean presses their foreheads together. “What, is dating me stressful?”

            Cas laughs. “Sometimes. But I still…think you’re pretty great.”

            It’s Dean’s turn to laugh. “Well this”—he waves around the brightly-lit storage container—“is my way of showing you’re pretty great.” He kisses Cas’ hair.

            Maybe one day he’ll be able to say it.

             _I love you, I love you, I love you._


End file.
